


Burning the Dark

by orphan_account



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Henry learns that silly little teenage crushes aren't that silly. Not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for naturedichotomy as part of the 2011 Super Junior Holiday Fanfic Exchange. Set during Super Junior-M's long stay in Taiwan in early 2011. Betaed by the amazing Glitterburn.

_Taipei, 2011_

Henry knows that he’s being stupid, of course. It’s one thing to act like a kid in front of the fans, but another thing to actually _believe_ that he’s still young enough to have silly little crushes like this.

 _Except it isn’t a silly little crush, is it?_

No, it isn’t. Matters seem to have progressed far faster than Henry would’ve liked, and now he’s kind of waist-deep in a mire of sexual confusion and frustration and dirty clothes.

(The last thing is perhaps more easily tackled than the first two problems, but Henry sees no great problem with lumping his various woes together. Makes it easier to feel sorry for himself.)

Henry watches the barman shake something out of a tumbler and into a frosty martini glass, mouth set in a grimace. He’s at an achingly hip nightclub, supposed to be meeting some friends he knows through friends of friends, but who he hasn’t personally had any contact with before. It was a bad idea the moment his buddy back in Toronto suggested he meet up with his girlfriend’s cousin while they were Skyping one night.

“He knows all the good places to go in Taipei, man! He’ll totally show you a good time.”

Yeah, except Henry still has no idea of how he ever let himself agree to this in the first place. Technically, it should be fine for him to leave the dorms tonight; the way that the managers have worked it out, himself, Ryeowook and Zhou Mi are allowed out this week.

Next week, Sungmin and Hyukjae have made plans to go shrimp fishing again, and Kyuhyun is sneaking off to some big professional gaming tournament (‘But only as a spectator. People keep whining when I beat them and I can’t be dealing with cry-babies’). Tonight, Ryeowook has wandered off to a night market, intent on finding some really good oyster omelettes and something to cook for tomorrow’s dinner. That’s fine. Henry doesn’t begrudge any of the other members some kind of spare time. God knows they need it after the constant repetition of filming variety shows and giving radio interviews.

But what Henry really, really resents (and he knows how illogical, how dumb he’s being about things), is the way Zhou Mi likes to go out clubbing by himself whenever he gets the chance. It’s not like he brushes Henry off rudely or anything (though sometimes, when Henry is a bit too insistent on asking why he can’t come along, and Zhou Mi is a bit too impatient to get out of the dorms, tempers can flare). No, it’s much more frustrating than that.

“You’ve been spending too much time with me, Henry!” Zhou Mi says each time, ruffling Henry’s hair like he’s some kind of goddamned puppy, like a labrador or a poodle. “Why don’t you call up your other friends, huh? I’m sure they’re all dying to see you. You should ask them if they know any good nightclubs around this area, so you don’t have to go too far out.”

And that, right there, is the problem. Henry wishes Zhou Mi would stop treating him like he was five. Henry supposes he can’t blame Zhou Mi too much; he was just a kid when he came to Seoul from Toronto, wide-eyed and excited about the prospect of being an Asian megastar idol. Now he just feels old before his time. Especially after all the shit that he’s been put through in the last year.

But that’s the thing: even though Henry’s had to deal with the mad delusions of those fans (he uses the term very loosely, everything considered) who believe that he’s got no place in Super Junior, he’s never had to deal with the hatred on his own. Zhou Mi’s been right alongside him, smiling at everyone despite the fact he must have been screaming on the inside. The way he broke down last year in Shanghai, when Han Geng’s departure felt the sharpest and most painful, was a lone moment of weakness, and Siwon had stepped in at exactly the right moment and shut the crowd up with an imperious glance and a calm sense of authority.

Henry thinks he should have done that; protected Zhou Mi the way Zhou Mi shielded him from the fallout of Han Geng’s departure, as if they had to stop existing just because Han Geng had decided that enough was enough and he wanted to pretend he was never part of Super Junior in the first place. Zhou Mi would let Henry see the harshest criticisms he found online, refusing to translate them for him whenever Google Translate failed to actually be comprehensible (which was a lot of the time). He still does this, and Henry knows it must kill Zhou Mi to read each barbed insult, no matter how badly worded or incoherent. But Zhou Mi always covers it up with a smile so strong it makes the sun look dim by comparison. That’s his secret; keep smiling, and perhaps people will eventually smile along with you.

Personally, Henry thinks that’s just wishful thinking, but he also thinks Zhou Mi deserves to believe that he can change hearts and minds through relentless optimism. He wishes he could tell Zhou Mi to stop trying so hard, though he knows that Zhou Mi would chide him for being lazy and pessimistic.

 _The fans deserve more, Henry. And so do we._

He can hear Zhou Mi saying it, too. Can even imagine the sad little smile Zhou Mi wears on his face when he’s trying to convince himself of something. His lips turn up but the smile never quite reaches his eyes, never makes Zhou Mi’s face glow, like when he’s really happy and it infects everyone within a five metre radius. It could be from finishing a particularly tricky set of lyrics, or laying down a brand new track in the studio, or finding the last pair of Armani suit trousers marked down to half-price on a sales rack. The effects are the same; instant happiness for anyone who sees Zhou Mi’s wide grin.

Deep down, Henry wishes he could kiss that sadness away. God, it sounds so stupid, but he’d like to take Zhou Mi away from all this for just one moment, just so Zhou Mi wasn’t always worried about being perfect for the fans, or focused on putting on a brave face for the members, or just always constantly looking after Henry like a little brother. Because Henry _is not_ Zhou Mi’s younger brother, and he definitely does not want to be treated that way.

No, he’d rent a car, drive out of here, find some place in the countryside where it was quiet. Or they could just keep driving, but they would go somewhere Zhou Mi wouldn’t feel hassled, wouldn’t feel the need to constantly be someone for everyone else. He could just be himself. And Henry… Henry thinks he would be able to finally tell Zhou Mi how much he cares about him. Not just because Zhou Mi has been his only constant ever since they’ve debuted; everyone else around him has moved or changed or grown more distant. Not because Zhou Mi was the only one who really understood what Han Geng’s leaving meant. The other members had lost a brother and a friend. Henry felt like the world around him was about to collapse. But Zhou Mi had been there, smiling and laughing and bringing him out for Korean-flavoured Chinese food and too much karaoke. He made Henry forget how much shit surrounded them and taught him that there were other more important things going on in the world.

If they were alone, Henry muses, he could tell Zhou Mi how much all this has meant to him. How much he needs Zhou Mi. How much he lo—

“Yo!” A hand slams against Henry’s back, knocking him against the bar and winding him for a moment. “What’s up! You must be Henry!”

Tears in his eyes, Henry turns his head to find an orange-haired girl grinning at him. She’s wearing braces and a tight sequinned dress and she wobbles on platform heels.

“I’m Li Ling!” she yells above the pounding music. This nightclub Henry’s friend’s girlfriend’s friend (Henry can’t keep track) has recommended seems to favour bass-heavy tracks and neon-strobed lights. Henry’s been nursing a glass of beer for the last half an hour waiting for Li Ling to turn up, and he grins weakly as she eyes his half-finished glass.

“You been waiting long?” she asks, flicking her hair to one side.

“Uh.” _Yes_. “No! Not at all.”

“Good!” she says, shouting to be heard over the noise. “Let’s go dance!”

“Really? That’s it?” Henry asks, but she doesn’t hear him. Instead she takes his hand and pulls him through a seething mass of bodies and onto the dance floor. There’s a group waiting for her already; an anonymous mix of girls in tight dresses and men in flashy shirts and expensive designer jeans. They introduce themselves but Henry can’t hear them over the music. A smoke machine is pumping thick mist across the floor as a resident DJ scratches at a set of decks in an alcove just above the bar. Here, at least, there’s some room to move, and Henry watches some dancers get up on the two podiums flanking the DJ’s alcove and start to rock their hips to the music. Li Ling says something to him but he can’t hear her, so she just points over his shoulder and takes his hand.

They end up grinding against one of the podiums. Li Ling’s skin is hot under Henry’s palm as he slides it up her thigh, following the rhythm of the Usher song playing loudly overhead. Henry feels a bit guilty about being this forward with a girl, but since her mouth is currently attached to his neck and her fingers have pushed themselves down the front of his jeans, he figures it’s OK.

Also, it’s been ages since he got laid, and a guy can’t go on indefinitely pining after tall, lanky men from China who see him as nothing but an overgrown pre-schooler.

Henry tells himself that he deserves this; deserves one night to indulge his primal urge to fuck. Since Li Ling seems to be all too willing to help him out in that department, and she isn’t repulsive (though the perfume she’s wearing could be toned down a notch), he figures she’s better than spending another night alone staring at the ceiling with only his hand to keep him company.

Zhou Mi does this all the time; dresses up in jeans so snug they leave nothing to the imagination, paired with tastefully-cut shirts and shiny patent-leather boots, his eyes lined thickly with kohl and his lips slick with a sheen of gloss. Usually Henry can only stand to look at Zhou Mi in his nightclub attire for a minute or two before he beats a hasty retreat to his room, mumbling something about practising his Jason Mraz act for the next variety show taping. Zhou Mi dressed up like that looks so sinful and beautiful and so fucking hot Henry gets hard almost instantly just looking at him. He knows that it’s part of Zhou Mi’s armour; part of his act to show how desirable he can be, how little he thinks of his detractors’ attempts to tear him down.

The problem is the act works too well. Henry’s come too many times to the fantasy of Zhou Mi finally relenting and giving him what he wants, his glossy lips leaving smears on Henry’s skin and his perfectly manicured fingers leaving imperfect marks on Henry’s thighs.

No, Henry thinks, tonight is _not_ going to be about how much he wishes Zhou Mi would just treat him like a grown man with the same needs and desires as anyone else. He’s going to have fun, get really drunk, and then wake up tomorrow with a hangover from hell and a girl wrapped around him. As grand plans go, it’s not particularly ingenious, but it has the benefit of being relatively easy to carry out.

He lets Li Ling kiss him, all sticky-sweet and slightly over-eager, and kisses her back as the other dancers around them move to the music. She uses too much of her tongue, and he pulls back for a moment, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Henry?” a voice asks just behind him. Henry spins around, slightly disoriented by the flashing lights and the thick smoke. “Henry, what are you doing out so late?”

He groans. Of course. The one night he decides to go out on his own and get over his stupid crush, Zhou Mi decides that this nightclub is an appropriate venue for a night out.

Fucking perfect. Henry blinks and sees Zhou Mi staring at him, hands on his hips. He’s dressed to be noticed tonight, his white t-shirt translucent and clinging to his slender frame, tight black leather trousers accentuating the unbelievable length of his legs. A diamond sparkles in his ear and his eyes are lined heavily and smudged at the sides, while his hair has been carefully distressed with product. His full lips quirk up in a wry grin, and Henry thinks Zhou Mi’s never looked more devastatingly beautiful.

“It’s a bit late, don’t you think?” Zhou Mi repeats, leaning in so Henry can hear him. He’s wearing a chain around his neck, and it catches in the flashing lights, winking at Henry as Zhou Mi moves closer to him. Henry closes his eyes, but he can still smell the warm spiciness of whatever cologne Zhou Mi’s wearing. “What are you doing here?”

Li Ling has wormed her way to them. She puts a proprietary hand around Henry’s waist, and just for the slightest moment, Henry thinks Zhou Mi’s eyes flash in the semi-darkness. _Typical_ , he thinks, _bet he’s going to tell me I’m not old enough to screw._

“I met up with some friends,” Henry says instead, turning on his mega-watt smile. It usually gets him out of trouble whenever an argument arises in the dorms, or when he wants a reaction from audiences. “I think I’m just going to stay here and party with them. Don’t let me cramp your style.”

He can feel Li Ling eyeing Zhou Mi up. Hell, he can feel nearly everyone in this place checking Zhou Mi out.

“Huh,” Zhou Mi says, not looking entirely disapproving, but still a bit put out. As though Henry isn’t allowed to stay out past ten at night. “Well, you’re old enough to do what you want, I guess.”

“I am.”

The words are a bit more forceful than Henry planned. Zhou Mi looks shocked. Henry wants to explain himself right away and clear up any misunderstandings, but then Li Ling sticks out her hand.

“Hi!” she chirps loudly. “I’m Li Ling. I’ve seen you on TV. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Henry. He’s _quite_ a big boy, you know.”

She winks and laughs, then turns around, tugging on Henry’s hand as she leaves. Zhou Mi’s gaze slides over her, coolly assessing, then shifts to Henry.

“She seems… lively.”

Henry shrugs. He doesn’t feel like justifying himself to Zhou Mi.

“She’s hot. That’s all that matters.”

Zhou Mi’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tells Henry sharply not to be back late and stalks away. He’s brought along his own group of friends who are gathered at the bar, and they cluster around him as he returns, darting curious looks at Henry.

Whatever. Fuck them. Henry goes back to dancing with Li Ling, and they’re soon joined by a couple of her friends, and Henry thinks, yeah, things could be worse.

*

An hour later, Henry’s got one arm around Li Ling and his other holding a glass of champagne whilst one of Li Ling’s friends kisses him sloppily, when he feels someone staring at him. He lifts his head away for a moment, ignoring the girl’s high-pitched whine, and sees Zhou Mi leaning against the bar, long fingers cradling a glass with what looks like Scotch in it.

Zhou Mi catches him looking, knocks back the alcohol and smiles. It’s the same smile he uses a hundred times during the day, the one that he thinks is reassuring and will help to lift other members’ moods.

The smile that never really reaches his eyes. He puts the glass down, turns to talk to someone else, the same awkward not-quite-a-smile hovering on his lips.

Henry feels guilt slam into his belly. As quickly as he can, he disentangles himself from the women around him and picks his way through the crowd, praying that Zhou Mi will still be at the bar when he gets there. For some reason, a cold, paralysing fear has settled in the pit of his stomach; he can’t bear the thought of Zhou Mi leaving now, not before Henry’s had a chance to explain why he’s at the club in the first place and why he had half a dozen girls (and possibly there was a guy in the mix as well — Henry can’t tell with all the smoke and lights) clinging onto him.

As luck would have it, for once Henry’s gut instincts are correct; Zhou Mi is putting on a leather jacket just as Henry reaches the bar, panting slightly from exertion (pushing people out of the way is way more tiring than it looks in those rom-coms Heechul likes to watch back in Korea). He turns his head, sees Henry leaning against the counter-top, and Henry catches the beginnings of an emotion in Zhou Mi’s eyes, before it is caught and locked away under Zhou Mi’s iron-clad restraint.

“You’re going?” Henry asks, trying not to sound breathless. He calls the bartender over and asks for a glass of iced water. “But you just got here!”

“Yeah, but you’re here already,” Zhou Mi replies, his tone light and airy. As if nothing’s the matter. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t like us older people hanging around.”

“Oh, please.” This time, real irritation flashes through Henry and he scowls before he can help himself. “You’re only three years older than me, dude. Not thirty. This club is big enough for both of us. What, are you scared that I might get in the way of you picking up or something?”

Zhou Mi snorts. “Unlikely, little Henry. I don’t always go to clubs to pick random men up for sex, you know.”

“I’m not little!” Henry gulps down his water, coughing as it chills his throat. He contemplates ordering a shot of vodka, because this sort of club isn’t quite as much fun when you’re sober. “And I don’t care if you’re going to fuck someone tonight or not.”

He almost believes himself. Zhou Mi doesn’t say anything and they sit together, saying nothing, whilst the rest of the club explodes in a riot of light and smoke and sound around them. After a few minutes, Henry’s annoyance fades and he wonders why Zhou Mi is still sticking around with him. Zhou Mi is toying with his empty glass still, turning it over in his hands.

“Would you really not care if I brought someone back to the dorms tonight, Henry?” he asks, voice so low Henry has to strain to hear him over the thump of the bass. “You think I’m that free with my affections?”

He sounds so unsure and upset that Henry wants to kick himself for being so insensitive. _Way to go, Lau. Instead of trying to explain yourself to Mimi, why not just piss him off even more and make him believe you think he’s some kind of slut?_

“No… Mimi, that’s not what I meant.” He gestures emptily, trying to corral his thoughts and feelings into something coherent and eloquent. It’s a losing battle, so he acts on impulse instead (it seems to work well enough for him most of the time).

“I’ll explain later, but let’s get out of here first,” he says, and reaches out for Zhou Mi’s hand. He doesn’t know what he expects will happen. Maybe Zhou Mi will pull away and tell him off for acting so recklessly. Maybe he’ll say that he wants to stay with his friends, and that Henry should go home since he’s obviously had too much to drink. Maybe —

Zhou Mi’s fingers latch onto his. His smile is warmer this time, though the edges of his lips are a bit unsteady. Henry wants to kiss him until Zhou Mi smiles properly, so that his face lights up and he starts laughing like he’s supposed to. But he settles for pulling Zhou Mi through the crowd towards the exit.

Zhou Mi’s friends wave as they walk by, calling out goodbyes and making jokes about sons and worried mothers. Henry waves at Li Ling and shrugs his shoulders, but she barely notices him leaving. Oh, well. It’s not like he had the best intentions when he suggested they meet up, anyway.

The crowd swallows them, pushing and pulling at their linked hands, but Henry doesn’t loosen his grip even once, just knows that he’s got to get Zhou Mi out of there.

Thing is, he doesn’t want anyone else to catch Zhou Mi’s attention. He doesn’t know where exactly they’ll go, but Henry knows it’s just got to be away from this crowd and their prying eyes and hungry stares. He wants Zhou Mi to breathe, to stop believing that he’s got to put on an act in order to be loved.

Henry thinks he’s being a jealous, selfish friend, wanting Zhou Mi all to himself, but come on. Zhou Mi’s got to be exhausted from all this pretending. Again he thinks about taking Zhou Mi on a long road trip out to the countryside and wishes he’d spent more time memorising street maps as a kid on his vacations here.

They reach the exit and Henry pulls Zhou Mi out of the mob’s grasp, and they both heave a huge sigh of relief as they suck in great lungfuls of the night air. It’s crisp, but not too cold, and it’s perfect weather for walking.

“Where are we going?” Zhou Mi asks as Henry tugs him down some anonymous side road, away from the muffled thumping of the nightclub’s music. “Henry, do you know where we are?”

“Yes!” Henry says automatically. Then, “No. Sorry, Mimi. I just thought it’d be better if we could talk somewhere else. There were way too many people in there. I — I thought…”

“You thought about this?” Zhou Mi teases, amused rather than annoyed. “As my grandmother used to say, sometimes even the rooster will lay an egg.”

“Sounds like your wai-poh knew my ma-ma,” Henry quips. He chooses a side alley, then turns onto a street where there are several sleazy-looking karaoke bars with their winking neon signs and advertisements for liquor and cigarettes. “Let’s find somewhere quieter, huh?”

Henry leads the way, even though Zhou Mi must know his way around this part of Taipei much better than him. He picks alleyways and side-streets on a whim, heading in one direction for a few hundred metres and then suddenly changing track, so that after about fifteen minutes of wandering about, he feels completely lost. Still, Zhou Mi doesn’t say anything, but when Henry glances back, he can see that Zhou Mi isn’t wearing that forced, fake smile on his lips anymore. That’s good. Instead, he lets Henry pull him away from the milling crowds of revellers out on the prowl.

They’re still holding hands. Henry can’t help feeling proud of this fact. He also notices the almost total lack of resistance from Zhou Mi. Maybe he’s just too tired of trying to herd the other members to actually bother to put up anything more than a token complaint. As if on cue, Zhou Mi moans a little about how his feet are beginning to ache. Henry ignores him with a wide grin, and gets a prim retort about respecting his elders in response.

Eventually, they manage to make their way towards the garden complex that surrounds the majestic Sun Yat-Sen Memorial Hall. The building is starting to show its age in comparison to the futuristic skyscrapers that surround it, but Henry decides that he likes the contrast. It reminds him of playing the violin together with his electronic keyboard. Garden lanterns cast sporadic pools of light around them, so it seems that they’re moving from one brief moment of illumination to the next.

“Come on,” he says, tugging at Zhou Mi’s hand. “Let’s go sit down.”

They find a stone bench set facing the imposing structure and sink down onto it. There’s barely anyone else here; a couple is sprawled out on another bench further away, and they get up to go just as Henry sits down.

It’s quiet, with only the distant sound of traffic in the background and the chirping of crickets. Henry leans back and looks at the sky, trying to find stars behind the thick blanket of cloud.

“Why are we here?” Zhou Mi asks, after a minute. “You said you had something to say, but I didn’t think you were going to drag me halfway across town just to tell me what was on your mind!”

“Chill, man. It wasn’t that much of a walk.”

Henry doesn’t exactly know why he wanted them to come all the way here, but now that they’re finally in a more private setting, he doesn’t want to lose the opportunity to get a few things off his chest.

“I don’t know,” he starts, and Zhou Mi giggles, earning himself a shove to his shoulder. “I — I just thought it’d be good for you to get away from all those people for a while, you know? You didn’t look like you were having much fun back there.”

He thinks again, scrubs a hand through his hair and tries not to meet Zhou Mi’s eyes. “Also, I’m sorry if I was rude just now. I guess I’ve been on edge a bit lately. I think it’s from realising that all this is going to end soon, y’know? And then we go into deep freeze again until they need us to make another mini-album or whatever shit the big boss dreams up. Sometimes I just wonder how much longer I can do this.”

 _How do you handle all this so easily? How do you put that same smile on your face day after day, and not go crazy?_ He wants to ask so many questions, but settles for tapping a rhythm on the stone surface of the bench instead.

Zhou Mi takes hold of his hand, and Henry yelps at the unexpected contact.

“You mustn’t think like that, Henry!” Zhou Mi’s voice is earnest, and Henry feels the seriousness of the moment begin to weigh down on him. He wants to make a joke to lighten their mood, but Zhou Mi’s other hand catches his chin, forces Henry to turn and meet his eyes. They’re shimmering in the half-darkness. Henry feels a sudden twist in his stomach. “You must stay positive. Everything we do, we have to do well. Our future depends on the impressions we make while we’re still here. You’re always so joyous, Henry. I… we all need you to be happy.”

“Come on, Mi!” Henry squeezes the hand that’s holding his. “You know I won’t let you down.”

Zhou Mi snorts, shoots Henry an incredulous look. For once, he doesn’t meet Henry’s gaze. He chooses to focus on the space between them instead. Draws in a shaky breath, lets it out with a gasping sort of laugh as if Zhou Mi’s hoping it will conceal his nervousness.

Why would Zhou Mi be so nervous?

“No, you idiot. I’m not worried about that.”

His thumb brushes against Henry’s wrist, raising goosebumps. But Henry doesn’t — can’t — pull away. Not now. The hand holding onto his chin falls away, and Henry wants so much to just lean forward and take Zhou Mi’s face in his hands, beg him to spill whatever secret he’s hiding. He doesn’t, though, just sits and stares at their intertwined fingers and waits.

“You can’t lose hope now, Henry,” Zhou Mi says, quite seriously, after another minute of silence. “Because if you do, then I’ll fall apart. Don’t you know you’ve kept me sane this past year, after the whole problem with Geng ge leaving?”

He finally lifts his eyes to meet Henry’s baffled expression, and Henry thinks, wow. He did not see that coming. At all. Zhou Mi’s actually blushing now, and Henry really thinks he should say something sensitive and appropriate to ease the awkward silence.

“Why didn’t you say anything before, you idiot!” It falls from his mouth without him thinking and Henry wants to kick himself. “I mean… Mi, I. I…”

Aw, fuck it.

“This is so unfair! I’ve been trying to tell you the same for fucking forever!”

“Oh?” Zhou Mi’s smile turns wicked, teasing. “What stopped you?”

“You keep treating me like I’m five!!” Henry nearly shouts. He pulls his hand free so he can wave it around to better express his frustration. “Damn it, Mi. You can’t just drop that on me right now!”

“Idiot.” Zhou Mi’s smile turns up an extra hundred watts. He looks relieved, and Henry, despite his annoyance, notices how bright and relaxed it is. “Maybe I thought you deserved a chance at having at least one part of your life not mixed up with this damn company; we’re all so screwed up already. And that you’d appreciate not having to deal with the awkwardness of knowing that I wanted you as well.”

Wait, back up.

“You want me?” Henry chokes out, half-confused, half-hopeful. “You — Mi. I… _what_?”

Zhou Mi kisses him. For a second after his lips touch Henry’s, it doesn’t register — one’s fantasies aren’t generally meant to come true, after all — but before Henry can do anything, Zhou Mi pulls back.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Sorry, Henry, I didn’t check whether that was OK with you —”

Henry doesn’t let him finish. He grabs a fistful of Zhou Mi’s flimsy, expensive shirt and pulls. The kiss is hungry, Henry’s tongue pushing into Zhou Mi’s mouth, the two of them drinking the other in as the insects chirp around them and the rest of Taipei pays no notice. Henry thinks he could die happy right now because nothing else in his life could possibly top this moment, but then Zhou Mi’s sliding a hand up his back, tracing patterns on Henry’s skin beneath the fabric of his shirt, and Henry starts to seriously reconsider his position on sex in public places.

They finally pull apart for air, and Henry can’t help but notice how absolutely _fuckable_ Zhou Mi looks right now, with a faint blush suffusing his face, and his lips even glossier and redder now than when they were at the club. If he wasn’t hard before, he certainly is now. His cock is pushing against the front of his jeans so hard it hurts, and it really doesn’t help when Zhou Mi leans in and slides a hand down Henry’s stomach.

“M-Mi,” Henry manages, too horny to notice anything else around him but the smirk Zhou Mi is wearing. He suddenly feels very vulnerable, all alone on this park bench with the object of his midnight fantasies right in front of him, feeling him up. It’s not a bad situation to be in, actually.

Just before Zhou Mi kisses him again, Henry finally strings his thoughts together. “Mi. I want… I need to tell you something. You know all that stuff you said before, about me keeping you sane?” Zhou Mi nods. “Well, ah. Shit, this is _so_ cheesy, but whatever, OK? I kinda — I don’t care if you think it’s screwed up, but my life doesn’t exist without you anymore. Ever since I came to Korea, and you took me out shopping that one time because you thought I didn’t have enough skinny jeans, I think I’ve known that I wanted you. And then, last year? All that shit that we went through? I couldn’t have got through it if you weren’t there being so fucking strong for both of us, Mi. I really couldn’t do it without you. So. Yeah.”

Henry takes a deep breath.

“Mimi, I _really_ like you, OK? And not because I think you’re a great big brother or shit like that. I just… I just do. And I want you _so bad_. And… yeah. I know it sounds lame, but there you go.”

There’s a little smile hovering on the edges of Zhou Mi’s lips, and when Henry finishes his grand confession, it becomes a full-blown grin that makes his face glow. Henry can’t help grinning back. They link hands and, for the first time, Zhou Mi doesn’t seem as though he still sees Henry as a kid. This time, he’s giving Henry a look loaded with genuine affection and hot-eyed desire.

Henry feels dizzy with the unreality of it all.

“Let’s go back to the dorm,” Zhou Mi says. He pulls on Henry’s hand, and Henry follows.

*

Later, when they’re alone in Zhou Mi’s room, and Henry has brushed all of Zhou Mi’s various pieces of clothing off his bed, earning him a clip over the head and a half-hearted spank on his ass, Zhou Mi finally undresses for Henry. Slow and sensual and slightly shy, his red fringe hiding his anxiousness. His expensive clothing gets tossed in a corner, forgotten for the time being.

Henry’s mouth is open the whole time. He feels like the luckiest guy on earth. When Zhou Mi is finished, he reaches out, impatient and eager and much too ready to begin. Zhou Mi laughs, low and rich. It sends a shiver down Henry’s spine.

“So impatient.”

“Fuck you, Mi,” Henry murmurs, his fingers already tracing the contours of Zhou Mi’s shoulders.

“I think,” Zhou Mi gasps, as Henry licks at the base of his throat, his neck, his jaw, “I thought that was the general idea.”

It’s dark, but Henry thinks Zhou Mi’s smile is enough illumination for him.

(And he realises that, maybe, _just maybe_ , silly little crushes aren’t really that silly after all.)


End file.
